" was the thoughtful reply; "and you've got it on you. We might
change jackets, but that would be no good. Could you rip it out of
yours?"

"Yes, of course, in a few moments."

"Then you'd better."

"Not now; it's too late. We must wait for a better opportunity."

"But--"

"No, no, I tell you," cried West excitedly; "look, he's not a prisoner.
The scoundrel has recognised us and is coming here. Why, Ingleborough,
he's a traitor--a rebel. No wonder he got through the Boer lines.
Look! there can be no doubt about it; he has joined their side. Those
men, the Boer leaders, the commandants and field-cornets, cannot know
that he is a thief."

"But they soon shall!" answered Ingleborough hoarsely.

"No, no, keep quiet," whispered West; "he's laughing with them and
coming here. Don't say a word; wait! It's my advice now."

"If I can!" muttered Ingleborough. "The skunk! He's sending the blood
dancing through my veins! He must be denounced, and if he begins to say
a word about your volunteering to bear the despatch I'll let him have it
hot and strong."

"Why, you seem to have completely turned your coat!" said West bitterly.

"I have! What we have just been saying has stirred up all my bile. But
I wish I could turn your coat too--out of the wagon."

"Why not?" said West, as a thought occurred to him, and running to the
other end of the vehicle, stripping off his jacket as he did so, he
thrust out his head and called to the sentry whose duty it was to guard
against any attempt to escape.

"What is it?" said the man quietly.

"Take my coat and hang it on the rocks yonder," he said. "I've been
sleeping in it night after night, and it's all fusty and damp. Out
yonder, right in the sun."

The request was so simple and reasonable that the man nodded, took the
jacket, and was turning to go away.

"Don't let anyone meddle with it," said West; "it's my only one, and I
don't want a Kaffir to carry it off."

"He'd better not try!" said the Boer, with a meaning laugh, and he bore
the jacket right away to where the sun was beating hotly upon the rock,
where the next minute the garment was spread out.

"Talk about me having a ready wit in an emergency!" said Ingleborough
merrily; "why, I'm a baby to you, West, my son! There: I'm proud of
you."

"Oh, but the risk!" whispered the young man. "That precious garment
lying carelessly yonder!"

"Carelessly? That's just the way to keep it safe. Who'd ever th